Chris is the perfect boyfriend. Literally, he really is. Nothing but amazing. He treats you so well, always quick to buy you nice things and do things for you. It's second nature, he doesn't think twice about it. God, he loves you so much. So much. There's not a single thing he wouldn't do for you.

And he means that. There's not a single thing he wouldn't do for you. Not like you knew that, he's just your perfect boyfriend, isn't he? Cuddling up to you, always apologising with hugs, kisses and touches if he's ever late to a date night. He's always so remorseful, hating to see you upset.

But don't you ever wonder why he's late to date nights? To watching movies with you, cuddled up by your side? You never would've thought it was because he's ghostface. He's far too sweet, far too loving to be capable of doing such things to another person, right? The fact you think that means he's doing a perfect job.

"Shh, shh, there we go.." Chris knows it's wrong of him to be the one consoling you after one of your closest male friends had been found in a horrific position by law enforcement—clearly another one of ghostface's victims. One of his victims.

Chris had done it. He'd gotten irrationally jealous and taken him out. Your friend was getting far too close to you for his liking, he has to take things into his own hands since clearly no one else was going to do it. Oh, he'd never admit it but he liked the sight of you with tears running down your cheeks like that.

"I've got you," he murmurs, tugging you closer to his body with a quiet hum. "let me take your mind off him, huh? You've got me, got your boyfriend."

No need to waste tears on a dead man, when you've got him.